


A View from the Mountains: Knitting a Tapestry of Several Threads - Chapter Three

by Maple_Tartan



Series: A View from the Mountains: Tales of the Avvar [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Avvar, Cold, F/M, Fighting, Freedom, Frostbacks, Gen, Independence, Steel - Freeform, Survival, War, endure, unite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 20:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10670022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maple_Tartan/pseuds/Maple_Tartan
Summary: With Kinloch Hold being burnt down just as the company of Avvar returned home, they decided there was only one way to fight back, to unite. Travelling into the Frostbacks, they seek to unite the Avvar holds against the Fereldan invaders.Note: This chapter is significantly longer than the others. If you are interested in the general story but not reading so much, you can skim the last few paragraphs for the gist and continue along to shorter stories. Thank you for reading.





	A View from the Mountains: Knitting a Tapestry of Several Threads - Chapter Three

The company of three warry Avvar met next day with determination in the face of exhaustion as well as the overwhelming odds against them.

“Where to first?” asked Tom, trying to keep the tone light.

“I know not of most holds, best for you to decided.” replied Rankys.

“We are close to Red Hold, we can reach it by nightfall.” said Leitis, a serious expression fixed to her brow, which had persisted since the massacre.

“Red Hold essentially belongs to the gods, other holds say the gods smile upon its people. If we were to become their ally, people would see the gods as on our side.” said Sam, making a mental note to pay patronage to Hakkon Wintersbreath more often.

Night came as Red Hold became visible in the distance. “We can reach the hold tonight if we keep going.” said Leitis, taking strides ahead of the others.

“We should wait until the morning.” said Rankys, stopping in place.

“Yes, because people are much more accepting of strangers raving of the end times when the sun is out.” said Tom, even though he too had stopped alongside Rankys. There was a silent acknowledgement that entering the hold now was a poor idea and they began setting camp. Leitis pulled the game she recently hunted out of her pack and began tearing it in fourths. Sam gathered firewood while Tom searched for the sturdiest sticks to hold their meals over the flame. Rankys flew high above, scanning the surrounding area for any dangers. He returned to the camp with the all clear and lit the small pile of wood that had been collected. Leitis offered him his share of the rabbit and sat next to the fire where the others had begun discussing the plan to woo the hold.

“How do we present ourselves to the hold of the faithful as the saviours of the Avvar people.” said Tom, sinking his teeth into his haunch of hare.

“From what we know, to convince them that our way is the way of the gods, would have them on our side.” added Leitis. Multiple and varied suggestions were then put forth, most lacking in either effectiveness or possibility.

“I believe I have found a solution, though you will have to trust me.” said Rankys, after a prolonged silence.

“What do you mean?” asked Sam.

“My plan would consist of doing certain things that you four would be safer not knowing. Your only part would be to support our claim with the gods when we encounter Red Hold’s augur.” said Rankys, offering little solace in his facial expression.

“We’d be safer not knowing?” asked Tom, providing an expression of doubt.

“Yes, and now I should rest.” said Rankys, handing Tom the last of his food before abruptly rising, walking a few meters from the others, and sitting in a meditative position. The others once again shrugged as they had thought of no other proper solution and continued eating. Rankys, on the other hand, began his plan by entering the Fade.

Waiting in the Fade, was the spirit of wisdom. “Time to search for the augur.” said Rankys.

“You wish to enter his dreams?” said the spirit of wisdom, catching onto Rankys’ intentions.

“We shape the dream-world, make him believe we are gods sent to guide him. With this, we align with the hold.” said Rankys, smiling.

“I can already sense him. His presence is as a lighthouse in the night.” said the spirit, beginning to fly through the wisps of green mist. Rankys followed his mentor, creating platforms through sheer willpower to keep pace. They eventually found the augur, standing on an island with other spirits. Rankys and the spirit hid a distance away, out of sight.

“We can use our combined power to change the landscape as Sigfrost once did before me. Afterwards, climb onto my back.” said Rankys. The spirit of wisdom frowned on what he meant before Rankys shapeshifted into a bear. Rankys thought of when he meant Sigfrost, channelling that appearance, growing taller than he ever would in reality. The spirit changed himself to appear less as a spirit, removing his glow and dressing as an impressive Avvar warrior, wearing worn animal pelts with a prominent tear on his chest revealing bars of iron and ice over where his heart sat. The Fade behind the augur began to shift, transforming into mountain terrain with a flurry forming. The augur only turned when the ground he stood on started to shake.

He turned to see a gargantuan bear with a gruff man riding his back. “By the gods…” said the augur, his eyes growing wide as Rankys approached him. He stopped just a foot before augur, his hot breath washing over him. The spirit of wisdom slid off Rankys and looked to the augur.

“Korth! Sigfrost!” said the augur, recognising the figures as being clearly divine.. The spirits who were communing with him went silent, some backing off while others approached with curiosity. The spirit of wisdom was able to communicate with them the situation even while maintaining composure before the augur.

“Listen carefully and remember well. A storm is coming. The lowlanders have declared genocide on our people. Four messengers of mine are coming to your hold. Follow them, they will guide the Avvar to survival.” said Korth, his voice echoing ominously.

“Thank you Mountain-Father. I will watch for your guides.” said the augur, suppressing his childish glee with facing Korth by focusing on what he had just said. Rankys slowly turned tail to him, pausing for the spirit of wisdom to mount him. As they walked away, the Fade dissipated, waking the augur and Rankys.

He was the first awake that morning so he flew about the hold, scouting the area once more. He saw the hold creeping out of slumber, beginning the day's activities of hunting, fishing, fighting, and communing with the gods. It was a clear sky that morning, allowing Rankys to see much further into the distance. The landscape was a bright painting of summer colours, illuminating to the world that hot weather had come. It was the perfect time for a lowland army to strike, the advantage in the cold the Avvar typically had, vanished with the warm winds. Normally, the Avvar chose their battles but now the tables have turned.

After a few minutes soaring the skies, Rankys returned to camp. The others were awake and had already packed the camp.

“We’re off then.” said Leitis, leading the short walk to Red Hold. The hold was built in a naturally formed indent in the mountain, believed to be a blessing from the Mountain-Father. A wall of burgundy timber stood marking the perimeter of the settlement with archers stationed at key points, including two on each side of a large gate. Their bows were not tall as the Dalish but thick and strong, able to pierce plate armour a distance away.

“Approaching!” shouted one of the archers, suddenly disappearing from his post. The gates opened slowly to reveal three archers, poised to fight with arrows knocked.

“Why have you come here?” asked the one who had made the initial call. The Avvar of Red Hold were particularly on edge since their falcons had seen suspicious activity and visits from fellow Avvar were rarely rooted in kindness. Rankys was momentarily taken aback by his greeter’s appearance. The Avvar of Red Hold have deep ties with blood and enjoy putting these elements on display. Therefore, those who come of age carve intricate designs using symbols of faith, history, and relationships into their skin, creating deep scars that last the wearer’s life.

“We come to speak to your thane. We bring news of the lowlanders.” said Tom, leading with confidence. The archers looked to one another for confirmation before lowering their weapons.

“Follow me.” said the one at the centre.

They were guided through the hold to the thane’s throne. The hold was filled with merchant huts, masonry workshops, hunting cabins, and buildings filled with shrines. There were multiple constructs for the gods, the largest being for Korth, then the Lady of the Skies, and the third for Hakkon Wintersbreath. Normally, the lesser gods of the Avvar holds do not earn their own place of worship, however, there were several smaller houses focused on these particular gods. The thane was found in the deepest part of a large cavern, sitting on a stone throne. The throne had been forged by the hold’s first settlers, working together to form a suitable seat of power. The stone was carved with intricate runes and writing to the gods. The hall itself was lit by a pit of blue flame at its centre, surrounded by small totems. Present in the hall was the augur, who typically only appeared when called for as those needing his services would typically go straight to him, however, he insisted on observing today’s proceedings.

“Visitors, they say they have news of the lowlanders.” said the archer before leaving the hall. The augur’s eyes lit up and he leaned forward inquisitively.

“How am I to know what you say is true and not another hold’s attempts at deception?” asked the thane, giving off an air of hostility. She was not the type for pleasantries. The thane was not a particularly physically intimidating woman but she had a gaze that could terrify a shriek. While she spoke, she leaned forward from her seat, illuminating the bottom of her face with a blue flame. The fire revealed the scars on her face, harshly carving an outline along her rigid bone structure to give it an even more solid appearance. Beneath her eyes, two scars trailed to her neck, symbolising when she wept for days when she lost her daughter. Nonetheless, she leads her people with strength and intimidation.

“Your augur should know whether we come in truth.” said Rankys, hiding a smile. The thane looked to the augur. She trusted him on most matters, the entire hold did.

“They shall speak the truth. Korth the Mountain-Father and Sigfrost visited me in the Land of Dreams. The Father said of four messengers sent to us as guides for our survival.” said the augur. The thane was shocked. Not only were they visited by the beloved major gods but messengers had been sent to their doorstep. If Leitis, Sam or Tom had shown hints of confusion, the thane had not noticed.

“I am Ceana Blood-Eye, you are always welcome within my hold.” said Ceana, dropping any form of aggression after a few moments of flustered confusion. Rankys had not noticed until now but her left eye had a crimson pigment while the other was emerald green. In truth, her legend-mark came from her ability to stare down any opponent, as if her very eyes could draw blood, as well as having a red eye.

“I am Rankys, this is Leitis, Sam, and Tom.” said Rankys, gesturing to each as he made his introductions. They spoke a greeting in turn.

“I would love to exchange pleasantries however time is of the essence. Fereldan soldiers are invading the Frostback Mountains and wish to see our heads mounted on their walls.” said Rankys, using more colourful speech to drive his point.

“We have seen lowlanders approaching hold lands, how are we to approach this?” asked Ceana, not bothering about the petty details of why the Fereldans were invading. The people of Red Hold put their allegiance with the gods before any leader and would desire Ceana to follow Korth’s messengers.

“We are to unite our holds against the intruders to throw them from our great peaks, gifts of the Mountain-Father.” said Rankys, maintaining poise. Ceana was taken aback.

“Unite the holds? Is the situation truly this dire?” asked Ceana, remembering a time where Fereldans were fighting a civil war merely decades ago while their lands were torn asunder by the Blight, believing that they too were so divided as unable to fight a common foe.

“Yes. Since the dissolution of the Inquisition, the lowlands have received an influx of well-trained soldiers. As well as their Queen is desperate to keep control of her people.” said Rankys, stressing the circumstances. The thane paused, assessing her options. She could hold behind her wooden walls, hoping for the best, or join Korth’s agents in uniting the holds to protect all the Avvar.

“The gods must be challenging us this day. My hold is with you. If the fate of all the Avvar people is honestly in danger, we must trust in our gods.” said Ceana, standing from her throne and approaching Rankys. She drew a blade and cut a small incision in her palm. She offered the blade to Rankys. He accepted, mimicked her cut and shaking her hand. Blood was not seen only as what flowed through our veins but had profound roots in all aspects of Red Hold’s culture.

“It will take some time for me to gather my people. You four should continue on to Vale Hold and push further north, visiting Rift Hold and lastly Stone Hold. Our army will be waiting for you at Rift Hold once we’re ready.” said Ceana. Rift Hold was the largest of the holds and the most defensible. There was only one bridge over the rift the hold is named for while the rest was deep under the mountains. The hold would have already started storing food for the harsh winter.

The agents of Korth said their farewells and headed off before Ceana made her speech to her people. Vale Hold was north of Red Hold and was only a day and a half away. The first day spent travelling was spent explaining to the others what Rankys had done. Pretending to be the gods did not sit well with them but they admired the strategy involved. They did come across a group of Fereldan soldiers, delivering supplies. They stood no chance from a stealth attack from a wyvern, a hail of arrows, a cleaving axe, and a charging bull. The supplies were mostly of food and some linens. They arrived at Vale Hold the next afternoon, energised and ready. They had opted to avoid trickery and opted to save time, not waiting until nightfall to start talking. They came to the gates as they did in Red Hold, however, Vale Hold had more formidable defences. The walls had spots of stone guard towers and there were even guards on the exterior.

“Stop where you stand.” said one of the guards at the gate.

“Do they match the description?” he asked the man next to him. The man held a parchment with runes inscribed within.

“ ‘A giant with a wood staff, a red-haired bowman, a short lad with some heavy scarring, and an axe wielder with fire in his eyes.’ “ read the man, walking closer to the bunch for a clearer inspection.

“Would seem so. Open the gates.” said the inspector. The stone gates slowly opened.

“Follow me.” said the man who first called to them. They received the march to the thane as they did in Red Hold. Vale Hold’s interior was similar to Red Hold’s, as all Avvar holds were. However, this hold’s housing was mostly made of stone, not painted wood. As well, there were only four sites dedicated to the gods; one for each major deity and one used for the many lesser ones. Different from Red Hold’s arena, Vale Hold’s was larger and prominently featured near the thane’s hall. A few of the fighters within the pit held glowing weapons. They were not the only ones seemingly using magical weaponry, a smith, hammering away at orange steel, held a glowing hammer. Passed the arena was the thane’s hall was made of timber rather than from natural stone. A statue dedicated to their god of the forest stood on each side of the entrance.

Entering the hall, the group was met with an audience of elders, the augur, and the thane. “We have received word of your arrival. Flown in from Red Hold.” said the thane, a hawk was perched on the corner of his throne. The throne was made of oak wood, carved with runes, similar to Ceana’s, with animal pelts draped all over. This thane was opposite from Ceana. He was tremendously physically imposing with a deadpanned stare.

“All good I hope.” said Tom.

“The augur of Red Hold sends that you are sent by Korth the Mountain-Father. We are no fools, we respect Red Hold and their grasp on the gods. However, we want to see this for ourselves.” said the thane. His words rowdied a turn of agreeing grunts and remarks from the audience. The thane stood from his thrones and lifted his great axe from the floor.

“I, Bhaltair Last-Scar, challenge you for Hakkon’s favour. If you are the victor, I pledge my hold to aid you.” said Bhaltair, lifting his great axe at the group. His challenge was met with rowdy applause and cheering. He had earned his legend-mark from being the last of his father’s children and that his arms were carved with scars from each of those he ended. The scars came together in patterns similar to Rankys’ tattoos.

“Pick your champion, I’ll be waiting in the arena for you.” said Bhaltair. With those words, the hall was cleared and preparations made.

Outside the area, the four discussed their options. “I could shapeshift and take him.” said Rankys, ready for a challenge.

“Hakkon’s favour is fought with blunt weapons, I believe claws and teeth are frowned upon.” said Tom. The plan was to follow the gods rather than invoke their disdain.

“I could do it, outlast him.” said Sam, thinking of strategies.

“As they don’t offer blunt arrows, they don’t give shields.” said Leitis, frustrated she could not help.

“That leaves me.” said Tom. His upbeat attitude seemed to have drained from him.

“Come on, maybe you can make enough jokes and he’ll give up.” said Sam, giving his brother a jab in the arm. Tom gave a small chuckle before heading over to the quartermaster for his weapon.

“To the viewing area.” said Leitis, already heading to where the hold was seated, surrounding the area. It appeared that the arena was the centrepiece of the hold.

A heavyset man stood on the opposite of the audience, holding a horn in hand. A silence fell as he put his lips to the mouthpiece after a deep breath. He pushed the air out of his lungs, resonating within the horn, calling for the battle to begin. Bhaltair entered the arena first, looking like a bull seeing red. Tom cautiously stepped out, scanning the battleground. The area had small obstacles, most low enough to vault over. Bhaltair let out a savage cry before charging Tom. Tom’s eyes widened and parried the blunt weapon, landing a quick blow before creating space between them. Bhaltair was not fazed by the attack and continued his unrelenting attacks. Tom stood his ground well enough but he was constantly on the defensive, never creating openings or taking chances. The thane was landing the occasional blow but none too powerful to disarm Tom.

The battle had been going for longer than expected and the audience was growing tired of the lack of results.

“He’s tiring.” whispered Sam. Rankys and Leitis squinted at the thane and could see that his breaths were becoming heavier with each swing. Eventually, Bhaltair performed a powerful strike, bringing the head of the blunted axe from behind his head. Tom sidestepped the swing, allowing it to make a crate where it landed. Tom took this opening, putting his weight on the weapon. The thane tried to tug it free but he had weakened himself too much. Tom bit his forearm, drawing blood, a reaver technique he had picked up. Channelling this pain, he put all his power behind one swing. The swing struck Bhaltair in the side, relieving him on his grip on his weapon and of his feet from the earth. The thane’s body slammed down, defeated. Tom dropped his weapon and turned to the crowd. He raised his hand and roared. The audience responded by raising to their feet and cheering. They admired his technique and the climax was worth the few minutes of boredom. They also would not question Hakkon’s favour. Bhaltair slowly raised from where he had fallen then walked to Tom.

“Hakkon Wintersbreath favours you and your cause. My hold is to join your alliance of the Avvar. The letter from Red Hold mentioned Rift Hold. We’ll meet you there.” said the thane to Tom. He spoke with care and approval, trusting in the gods.

Once again not waiting for the thane to address his people, the group left Vale Hold. The first day was launched with merry singing and epic descriptions of the duel. Tom took the compliments in a humble comedic tone. The travel to Rift Hold would take three solid days. Each day, Rankys would scout ahead, as a hawk, for hostile troops. The main hord was never sighted but patrols were discovered and swiftly eliminated. They had found little intelligence from the soldiers other than updates on the situation that have yet to change, specifically King Alistair’s whereabouts. The group arrived at Rift Hold on the evening of their fourth day of travel, tired from late night watch shifts but they remained steadfast, knowing that the world was against them.

Rift Hold was a settlement formed from the mountainside. Arriving from the south side, the group first saw the walls of the hold, as they climbed up the incline. The walls were tall and of naturally formed stone. The Avvar referred to the structure as The Wall of Korth, as all stone was born from Korth’s hands. The second thing they noticed was the massive Rift that made the hold so defensible. The size of the gash in the earth was massive, spanning the entire length of the wall. Approaching the Rift, they all took a peek at its depths. Even with sunlight left to spare, the Rift was filled with darkness. Before the group stepped on the wide stone bridge, the sole point of ingress to the hold, the gates had already swung open.

The open gates revealed the augur from Red Hold standing open armed with more Avvar at his sides.

“We’ve been waiting for your arrival.” said a short man amongst the Avvar that accompanied the augur.

“I am Inatan Half-Rider, thane of Rift Hold. Join me and me and my fellow tribe leaders.” said Inatan. His legend-name derived from his height as well as when he once rode on the shoulders of another Avvar in combat. The group followed Inatan and his entourage through the hold. Rift Hold was a marvel of a hold. Many of the structures seemed ancient and were formed from natural stone combined with expert masonry. Different from the thatch roofing of the previous holds, these buildings wore sod roofs, adding a splash of colour within the stone grey aesthetic. The wonder of the hold was the towering temple that watched over the inhabitants of Rift Hold. A spiral of stairs hugged the exterior of the temple until reaching the entrance at the very top. Residing within the temple were the hold’s elders, offering guidance and rituals for the gods. The thane’s hall was within the mountainside, unlike most of the hold which was open to the sky. The hall was made by master masons who had worked years on the construction and fine detailing. Within its stone walls and roofing, benches lined next to a long hearth and tables were pushed against the sides. The thane entered first and sat on his throne, which matched the great work of the entire hold. The clan leaders sat on the benches and the others sat around the tables. The only seats that remained were four stools directly before the thane. Rankys took the first seat, followed by Leitis, then Sam, and lastly Tom.

“We have felt the incursion of the lowlanders in our land.” said Inatan, starting the proceedings.

“That is why I have brought all the tribes within our walls. As well as on the word of Red Hold, their lot should be arriving along with Vale Hold within a few days. We all happen to agree with you, that unity will ensure our survival in the end.” he said, gesturing to the augur as he mentioned his hold.

“All seems to be going smoothly.” said Tom, trying to move along to the inevitable negative.

“However, how does this end.” said Inatan, silencing falling upon the hall.

“It sounds as if the lowlanders have no thought of stopping until we are gone and no matter how hard we try, we could never conquer the lowlands.” he continued. That last remark generated some grumbling for, particularly aggressive clan leaders.

“We kill as many of them until they cannot muster anymore.” said Sam, bloodlust clouding his vision.

“They could always hide on the other side of their lands until they are ready to attack again.” said a clansman, standing from the bench. A pessimistic agreement was passed about before he sat again.

“They invade our lands by the decree of their starved queen. Ending us is a nice thought but expending their young and foolhardy is not worth the prize according to their leaders. The Queen dies, the nobles lose their guidance. They scramble, retreat, and lose desire.” said Rankys, standing and turning around the hall. Some cheered, excited by killing royalty but some refused, sceptic.

“I’ve met with their King. He is a man who does not seek war. He allowed their clan to take Kinloch Hold for multiple years.” he continued, gesturing to his companions.

“There is a chance that if the Queen is killed, a royal member that is opposed to war may become their leader. This will give us the opportunity for continued existence.” ended Rankys, sitting back down. The room gave him a small applause, knowing that their hope for not drowning in rivers of their own blood hinged on the hope of a pacifistic ruler.

“In the meantime, we fight. We challenge their every move. We soak our land with their blood. It is our honour to fight. It is our honour to appease the gods in slaughtering these lowlanders!” shouted Leitis, swiftly rising from her stool. She was animated as she spoke, gesturing with every word. What she said invoke a feeling of strength in the people of the hall. They cheered, slammed their fists on tables, and shouted battle cries. Inatan rose from his throne and called for quiet.

“The plan is set, outlast the lowlanders and execute their Queen. Ready the people, a storm is indeed coming.” said Inatan. The leaders in the hall voiced their agreement and left the hall, leaving the thane and the four travelers.

The four of them grabbed their packs and began to follow the others. “You can stay here for the night, my hall is yours.” said Inatan, showing hospitality.

“We can’t stop here. We are heading to Stone Hold.” said Tom.

“Oh, best of luck to you with those bastards. Our blood feud may have just recently concluded, but blood runs deep.” he said, retiring to his chambers as they left the hall.

Night was creeping into the sky when they stepped outside. They took advantage of the last flickers of light by immediately heading north. They slept only a few hours before continuing on the next day. A few days later, the knew they were coming closer to Stone Hold so they got a full night’s rest, knowing they would either arrive in the little hours of dawn or during the first meal. It turned out to be a good decision as when they found Stone Hold the next morn, it was under siege.

The hold was surrounded by Fereldans on all sides. It seemed as though they had not penetrated any of the walls, the stonework proving strong. Banners of hounds were speckled over the landscape except for one spot where there were two directly next to one another. The four of them ducked down and stealthily circled around to behind where the banners stood. Between the banners was a man on a horse, adorned in more ceremonial than functional armour.

“We fight.” whispered Sam.

“Are you insane, we can’t take an entire army alone.” said Tom, equally as quietly.

“Stone Hold will join in after hearing enough chaos.” said Rankys.

“Let’s make some noise.” said Leitis, readying her bow.

The four broke from cover and started wreaking havoc. Leitis made her way to each of the trebuchets that were stationed amongst the crowded forces. She stood in the shadows at a safe distance and pulled her longbow to its limits before loosing an arrow. The arrow would cut the sling that held the payload, rendering them useless. This occurred to each trebuchet, confusing all stationed nearby. Sam and Tom threw stones to get small groups of soldiers attention before butchering them away from the others. Rankys shifted as a red lion and stalked his target, the fancy lowland man. He correctly presumed he was commander of some kind. Faster than the human eye could see, Rankys was upon the man, tore at his flesh, killed him, and escaped into the forest. The bannermen were shocked but before they could think of an action to take they had been blown aside by a charging bronto. Rankys ploughed through the Fereldan forces, launching them into one another and crushing them beneath his massive form.

The chaos of a missing leader, a rampaging bronto, disappearing patrols, and destroyed trebuchets, sent the troops into a panic. This disturbance was seen by the Avvar within Stone Hold, giving them the opening to break from within their hold. The gates were opened and the Avvar poured out. It was as if a caged bear had been unleashed on the confused soldiers. Many of them had turned their backs to the hold after the rampaging bronto came through, exposing them to being eviscerated before they knew what had come for them. Sam, Tom, and Leitis flanked after uniting on the side of the battlefield. After their initial blow, they joined the slaughter with their people. Finishing his charge, Rankys shifted into a wyvern. His wyvern form was naturally longer than the average wyvern, sporting a black and blue pattern throughout. He swung his massive tail, toppling a group of enemies. His bite was acidic, melting through any armour the opposition wore. The Avvar were morally boosted, circumstantially at an advantage, and magically enhanced. Since the dissolution of the Circles, the College of Enchanters and new Circles have no requirement to serve Ferelden, giving the Avvar an unmatched magical advantage.

Rankys witnessed the legends of Stone Hold made fact when the strongest of the Avvar charged into battle wearing stone armour. Many outside the Frostbacks did not believe the tales of rock adorned fanatics but it seemed the truth. Perhaps the armour was enchanted to be lightweight or a special type of mineral. Either way, the Fereldans could not penetrate these few massive Stone Hold fighters, bringing death to all before them. The few mounted Fereldans attempted to flee, some even being able to steady their horses amidst the chaos. The rest were not so fortunate as the shocked troops were too scattered and startled to form any strategy, they were slaughtered.

Once the fighting had concluded, having all the Fereldans either dead, dying, or being chased into the wilds. Losses for the Avvar were minimal as the lowlanders were on the run for most of the battle. Rankys met up with Leitis, Sam, and Tom, congratulating each other and laughing amongst the piles of dead. The Avvar of Stone Hold approached the four of them, giving thanks and appreciation. The last to come before them was a tall woman with a beautiful complexion. The blood splattered across her face and drying in her hair could not take from her sheer radiance.

“Thank you.” she said. Her voice floated in the air in a tone as if sung by the finest skald. She extended her hand and Rankys was the first to accept the gesture. Her hand was calloused and hardened from battle, having deep cracks filled with blood and dirt.

“I am Thane Isbell Fine-Rock and welcome to Stone Hold.” said the thane, The introduction brought a small chuckle from the crowd. Her legend-mark was derived from her outlandish beauty and how she could scale a cliff face swifter than any other.

“What brings you four from the south?” asked Isbell. Curious why Avvar presumed to have come from Rift Hold would aid her hold.

“This siege isn’t an isolated incident. The lowlanders have marked our kind for extinction.” said Rankys, once again implementing colourful dialect.

“The lowlanders and us haven’t been best of friends for multiple millennia.” said Isbell, not catching on what Rankys’ was implying. Having not received a letter from any other holds, most likely due to Fereldans shooting them down, Stone Hold believed that their siege was just a harsh lowlander attack that would end in bloodshed but no more.

“The lowlanders have decided that we’ve been pests for too long and have come to purge us.” said Leitis, stepping forward.

“All of us? What of the other holds?” asked Isbell, now grasping what was occurring. “We have contacted the most notable ones. They are within Rift Hold, preparing for the lowlanders.” said Rankys. Isbell scoffed at the mention of Rift Hold.

“Those bastards. You expect us to help them?” said Isbell, knowing that lowlander invasion brought ideas of alliances.

“If we fight amongst each other, the lowlanders will come to only feast on the scraps. We need to defend one another at this time. Let’s give the lowlanders a hell of a fight!” said Sam. There were words of agreement murmured in the crowd.

“To add to that, you said you owe us a favour. Take our favour in a favour to yourselves. Travel with us to Rift Hold. We promise that it will be safe, as least from our own.” said Tom, jumping into the pitch.

“You make a good case strangers.” said Isbell. She turned her back to face her people.

“Will we fight?! Will we win?! Will we stain the Frostbacks with lowlander blood?!” shouted Isbell. Her people shouted in accord to each sentence.

“Grab your essentials from the hold, we leave tonight.” said Isbell. With that, her people gave a final cheer before complying with her orders.

She turned to the group of strangers, smiling. “Always feels good to rally people together. You should travel with us, safety in numbers.” she said, her smile growing wider. The four of them agreed with her, having no other planned hold to travel to. The hold gathered its gear swiftly, knowing time was of the essence. All joined in abandoning the hold, knowing that staying would be suicidal if the elderly were discovered alone. The return trip to Rift Hold took longer than the initial trip, seeing as travelling in groups was a slower process. The long trek to the hold was completely free of lowlanders or anything out of the ordinary, which was in and of itself out of the ordinary. When they arrived at Rift Hold, they saw a scene similar to what had occurred at Stone Hold but much more dire.

It appeared as though the entire remaining lowlander army was stationed on the opposing side of the Rift to the hold.

“Well, shit…” said Tom, emptying his lungs of air. Leitis devolved into a flurry of muttered curse words.

“Fuck.” whispered Sam, after punching a tree. The Fereldan army was formidable. There was an increased number of trebuchets than at Stone Hold, more sturdily built with steel cables for a sling rather than rope. They had arrived just at the time one of the trebuchets launched its cargo. The stone flew through the air and crashed against the Wall of Korth and plummeted down the Rift. The walls had been magically reinforced since the arrival of the lowlanders. The soldiers were a mix of archers, light infantry, heavy infantry, and cavalry of both variants. The army also had scouts surveying the surrounding forest, causing the group from Stone Hold to retreat further into hiding.

Night had come and it was time to create a plan.

“They’re pinned down, can we do what you did at Stone Hold?” asked Isbell. The clan leaders, elders, and shaman had gathered for planning.

“No. If we engaged the force, they would be able to split into two and handle both of us easily. As well as the fighters within Rift Hold wouldn’t be able to join the battle quick enough, the bridge is only wide enough for a few at a time.” said Rankys, wrapping his hand around the back of his neck and looking to the ground.

“Well, we can’t just sit here and do nothing.” said Sam with a hint of anger while pacing behind Leitis and Tom, who were sat facing the remaining planners.

“What of Frost Hold?” said the spirit of wisdom within Rankys. The spirit had been taking a laxer to teaching, seeing his pupil doing quite fine on his own.

“What of Frost Hold?” repeated Rankys, now to the attending Avvar.

“No one has heard from them since the sky was torn open.” said Isbell, seeing their options dwindle and dwindle.

“That’s not exactly true.” said a voice from the crowd of clansmen. An average looking fellow pushed himself to the front.

“What do you mean?” said Isbell, confused and vaguely angered.

“My sister was joined into one of the Frost Hold tribes. She sent to tell me that the people of Frost Hold have retreated within the hold for a ceremony to the gods. Apparently, it could take some time to carry out.” said the man timidly. Isbell ignored the fact that this man should have brought this information to her attention and turned to Rankys.

“They are our chance. If you bring them from the south, we attack from the east, the lowlanders are fighting a two front battle until the fighters within Rift Hold join the fray.” said Isbell excitedly. They had just found the key to their predicament.

“My augur will join you, she knows where the entrance is. She can guide you.” said Isbell. Upon her word, the augur of Stone Hold emerged from the audience. She was an ancient woman who hunched over as she walked.

“Say your goodbyes boy, we leave tonight.” said the augur. She had no bite but her bark could take a chunk out of your flesh. Rankys gave a group hug to Leitis, Sam, and Tom before telling them to never force full combat and best of luck. He shook hands with Isbell and waved farewell to the clan leaders. He then joined with the augur at the end of camp.

“You may want to carry me, I can’t exactly keep pace with your paces.” she said, noting Rankys’ massive height along with her age. Without warning, Rankys shifted into a particularly sturdy halla and laid on his stomach. The augur gave an approving look before mounting him, grappling to his antlers.

She immediately regretted approving of this method of transport when Rankys went speeding into the night, bucking with every stride. Going full tilt, they reached Vale Hold within a day and continued riding. From the brief time they spent passing Vale Hold, they could see that it had been ransacked and plundered by the lowlanders. The same went for all the villages they passed, as well as Red Hold. The group had never visited Stone-Bear Hold but when Rankys passed he could see that it was abandoned with its people scattered to the winds. After around a week of nearly constant riding, only stopping to collapse with exhaustion, they reached the base of Frost Hold.

The mountain itself stood out from the others as it was covered in permafrost which spread to the surrounding terrain the year round but other than that it matched its surroundings. Rankys allowed for the augur to dismount before reverting to human form, leaning on his staff for support as he breathed heavily. The augur scuttled past him and started tapping the mountainside with the tips of her fingers.

“The entrance is concealed with magic, you have to sense its presence.” she said after catching Rankys’ inquisitive gaze.

“Here.” said the augur, pressing her full hand to the rock. Glowing runes appeared on the rock face and a jagged door slowly swung open.

Beyond the door was a long winding tunnel of shimmering ice. The tunnel had no torches but remained lit by enchantments. Exiting the end of the tunnel revealed the marvel of Frost Hold. The hold was carved from the stone as the dwarven thaigs were. However, the architecture was clearly human, crafted by master masons and wise augur. The main cavern was lined with statues to the gods. One would be staring up then the next gazing downward, looking to the parent gods. An image of the Lady of the Skies was carved into the roof, demonstrating her elegant form with flowing lines and soft transitions. The buildings on the floor had been built in a design to create Korth the Mountain-Father’s face on the floor. His image was more jagged and harsh, as the creations were. Rankys stared in awe at the beauty of the torchlit creations within the hold.

“Wow…” he managed to utter as he spun himself to see the designs behind him.

While he gawked at the architecture, the people of the hold had abandoned what they were doing to meet the new arrivals.

“Your time to shine kid.” said the augur, grabbing Rankys’ attention. He turned to see the people of Frost Hold. Their skin was as white as snow, matching that of Rankys’. They wore light furs of various animals, prizes of the hunt.

“What brings you here.” said an elderly man at the front of the crowd.

“I am Rankys, I seek your aid in defending our lands and saving our people.” said Rankys.

“Why is this? Have the lowlanders finally come.” said the old man with a solemn look on his face.

“Yes, have already attacked many holds and are besieging Rift Hold.” said Rankys, believing this would spark some cry of outrage. However, the people did nothing.

“We knew this day would come.” said the man. He beckoned for Rankys to follow as he walked towards the temple at the centre of the hold. The people of the hold dispersed while the augur accompanied Rankys to the place of worship.

Within the temple resided the hold’s elders, performing rites and sacrifices, offering advice to the lost. They all sat by the pit of blue fire in the middle of the main room. The structure was simply made, giving the temple an air of the basics.

“The lowlanders have come.” said the man, addressing the room before joining the sitting circle. Rankys and the augur remained standing.

“The gods do not lie.” said one of the elders.

“You knew they would come?” said Rankys, lacing his words with anger.

“Ever since the the scar of the Lady was sealed. The gods have told us of their incursion.” said another elder.

“So you do nothing?” asked Rankys, his rage bubbling. His mind thought of the burning of Kinloch Hold, the destroyed settlements he saw on his travels, and the sieges of Stone Hold and Rift Hold.

“We do not fight the will of the gods, foolish child.” said an additional elder, giving Rankys a disapproving look.

“That is easy for you to say.” said Rankys. This spurred some of the younger elders to stand and shame Rankys for not bowing to the gods.

“You hide in within your safe ceilings and magical hidings. What of the other Avvar? Those who had been unexpectedly taken by the lowlanders, slaughtered. Their blood is on your damn hands. As you all wait for your world to be swallowed by the darkness, our people fight for their very lives. And as of right now, they are losing. You are the can save them. Know if you do not, you have destroyed the Avvar.” said Rankys, mixing rage with sad sincerity.

The more rational and sensible elders started to question the true intention of the gods. Whispers of if this was a test, perhaps an opportunity to appease them. The idea was tantalising. None of them truly wished for their doom, however, they had grown to accept it. Now, they saw a chance. After some time of discussion, the elders put the decision to help down to a vote. Votes were cast by a raise of hands and the results were tallied. The desire to massacre lowlanders and aid their fellow Avvar outweigh the pessimistic apathy of followed what was the presumed desire of the gods.

“We will tell the hold, follow the thane to the Cavern of the Gods.” said one of the elders. At that, the old man that initially spoke to them extended his hand to Rankys and the augur.

“I am Thane Torcull Final-Grey, pleased to have you within my hold.” said Torcull. His legend-mark originated from that he was the last of his family’s generation as well as his extreme age for a thane. While the elders gathered the people, Torcull guided Rankys and the augur to the Cavern of the Gods. The cavern was immense, not as tall as the initial one but equally as long. There were no statutes or permanent structures within but carvings covered all the stone.

“To rest in here is to rest with the gods." said Torcull, dragging his hand along the walls. Previously, Rankys would have demanded to leave as urgently as possible. However, he knew the people of Frost Hold would need time to prepare and get right with the gods.

That night the entire hold crammed into the cavern to sleep. Normally, it only hosted the most elite of Avvar but the elders believed all would need to sleep with the gods for the upcoming battle. The people of Frost Hold made their final rites with the gods the next morning and left for Rift Hold, leaving those who could not fight safe within the hold. It would take much longer than it took to ride, travelling as a horde. During the journey, they passed the same landmarks that Rankys and the augur had initially. Those of Frost Hold saw the destruction and carnage the lowlanders had wreaked. The savagery matched themselves and that frightened them as well as emboldened that their cause was just. After nearing a week of travel, they rested under the stars. Rankys scouted the area ahead as a raven, invisible against the night sky. He saw that Rifthold was just beyond their camp, still besieged by lowlanders. He circled the surrounding area, searching for those of Stone Hold. He found scattered fires amongst the trees. He landed by one, startling the Avvar when he reverted to human form. They calmed after seeing it was Rankys.

“Did you reach Frost Hold?” asked Isbell, the camp he had chosen was the largest so he presumed she would be there.

“They are here, ready to strike in the morning.” said Rankys.

“Why not now?” asked Isbell, fire in her eyes.

“Those of Frost Hold need their rest, as well as anyone, could be mistaken for a lowlander at this time.” said Rankys, taking the advice whispered to him by the spirit of wisdom.

“Gather your people, we strike on my mark.” he ended before shifting into a raven and returning to the Frost Hold camp. Once he had returned, he told the thane of his plan, which then circulated about, readying the fighters.

The next morning, final preparations were made. Whetstones were passed and a paste of crushed woad was painted over people’s faces, forming intricate patterns and unique pledges to their gods. Nippy winds blew through the trees that day, marking the coming of colder weather. Rankys led the troops along with the thane, stationing them barely out of sight, south of the lowlanders. Rankys hoped that Stone Hold had lined by the east, pincering the lowlanders.

“On my charge.” said Rankys, once all the troops were ready. He shifted into a massive black bear and took the helm, breaking cover and charging.

The Fereldans were monitoring their perimeter as they had grown sharp from the constant harassment from Stone Hold. They had even tried to establish defences with barricades and towers but every attempt had been foiled by raiding Avvar. A scouting party sent to assess the damages on their latest attempts were swiftly routed by the sudden appearance of the charging barbarians.

The combatants from Frost Hold charged from the west, prompting those from Stone Hold to also attack after hearing their cries. The two sides advanced wildly, supported by arrows and magic. The mages distorted the world around them, casting glyphs of paralysis, morphing reality, and augmenting their allies. The mages who charged forth with the front line branded enemies, transforming them into walking bombs. The warriors lead the front with weapons raised while spewing savage howls. Archers remained at the back, releasing arrows from their thick bows that could pierce a man complete through the chest. Imbued with magic and influenced by the benevolent spirits of Rift Hold, they broke into the vulnerable Fereldan army.

The site of the battle was to be full of obstacles, benches, fire pits, and tents. The lowlanders had attempted to form a fortified perimeter but once it was destroyed by the Avvar of Stone Hold, they presumed that was all the power they possessed. Enough to be a thorn in their side but impossible to impede their incursion. Any siege equipment had been disabled, meaning the Fereldans’ only option was to wait out a long and arduous siege. However, it was deemed worth their efforts as Rift Hold was the most populous hold in the Frostbacks. They had set up a base, preparing food shortages and even clashing with the Avvar on their hunts. All this siege preparation meant they were in no way ready for a pitched battle so when the Avvar arrived in droves, they panicked and hurried to prepare for a fight.

Fereldans attempted to back away and form a shield wall but that was broken by the immense bear spearheading the charge. Avvar poured into the break and started hacking away at their scattered foe. It was an absolute treat for the Avvar who revelled in combat. Leitis hung back, executing foes at a great distance, Tom and Sam entered the field as a dynamic duo, combining their fighting styles to fell the most lowlanders. The thanes of Stone Hold and Frost Hold fought together for the first time. Torcull and Isbell may have charged from opposite sides of the battle but they found one another in the frey, recognising each other from previous meetings. They fought side by side, impressing one another with their outstanding battle prowess.

The Fereldans fought valiantly until the corpses piled high and they became organised enough to form two circles of shield walls, split from the initial charge. Now standing at a distance of bodies from the Avvar, they tightened their formation and prepared for a fight of brutal attrition. Within the centre of the shield wall were some archers, loosening a hail of arrows on the enemy or peaking their bows between the shields to land a direct hit. One of the shield walls formed a semicircle before the bridge to Rift Hold. Some Avvar charged the shields, some pushing their way through as others would attempt to leap over. Those who found success would fell a maybe one lowlanders before falling while those who failed would simply add to the piles of corpses. Slowly, the number of Fereldans diminished and the circle that laid in the midst of battle was collapsing. Lucky for the lowlanders, Queen Anora was in the semicircle, frantically trying to develop an escape plan. Fereldan cavalry who had been away from the camp during the charge arrived, circling away from the Rift and attempting to flank the Avvar only to be met by Rankys. He embedded his claws into the side of the horses and tossed them to the group, either crushing or disabling their riders.

Behind the walls of Rift Hold, the thane spoke with one of the elders.

“Our food supplies are dwindling. The storage was designed for twenty tribes, not three holds plus any stragglers they picked up.” said Inatan, running out of options. The people within the hold did not know that they were anywhere near starvation. The elder was about to lend his sage advice when a man burst into the hall.

“Thane! Giùlain, he’s here!” said the man, out of breath. Giùlain was the Hold-Beast of Rift Hold, a black bear. Legend was that Giùlain was the son of Sigfrost and that led the Avvar to Rift Hold.

“What do you mean?!” asked Inatan, confused yet intrigued.

“Giùlan is leading a charge of Avvar from the south and there are other Avvar joining in from the east!” continued the man.

“Rally the men.” said Inatan, exiting his hall. That had already been done. All within the hold had brandished their weapons and were gathered at the hold’s gate, thane, fighter, and augur alike.

“Our fellow Avvar are fighting and spilling lowlander blood without us! We don’t have time for speeches, open the gates!” shouted Inatan. The fighters let out a rallying cry sprinkled with laughter. The front line soldiers pulled open the gates, allowing the flood to pour forth. The lowlanders had an only a few shields blocking the bridge which easily fell to a hail of arrows combined with the charge of Rift Hold.

The lowlanders were now closed in on three fronts and their numbers were swiftly falling. Rankys’ cries of slaughter inspired those of Rift Hold, however, his wounds were getting to him and he had to retreat. He made his way away from the fight, leaning against a tree and placing an open palm on his largest wound. Green energy glowed from his hand as his flesh mended back together. While he healed, he looked to the battle. The fight was evidently for the Avvar. The lowlanders were still numerous but on their heels, backing into themselves. Now, all thanes of all the remaining holds fought together, spilling blood together. Nothing forms a bond like braving death or saving one another in the midst of battle. Inatan took an example from his legend-mark and rode Bhaltair into the fight while Ceana made her way with her best men, leading from the front. In the centre of the frey was the lowlander Queen. She had dismounted her horse to avoid the arrows and was being covered with shields. Feeling capable to fight, Rankys shifted as a wyvern and rejoined the bloodshed. This time, he found where Sam, Tom, and Leitis were and swung his tail, toppling the Fereldans headed to his friends. Now lying face down in the dirt, they were ready for slaughter. His friends smiled at his arrival before taking advantage of the gift provided. Rankys the continued to float where he was needed, closing gaps and executing particularly resilient foes.

Realising her situation, surrounding by enclosing barbarians, the Queen had to think fast.

“Create a path.” said the Queen to her commanders. Her commanders left her side and ordered the soldiers to create a lane free of enemies. They formed a brief instance of open terrain and the Queen took the chance. She galloped through at top speeds, breaking free. As she found freedom from the mayhem, Rankys caught her in his sights. He chomped down on a cavalry who had lasted until thus far then gave chase. He began as the wyvern but shifted into a red lion while running. He bobbed around the trees, catching up to the horse with ease. He ran at its side then crippled the horse’s front leg. It suddenly collapsed, sending its rider flying from the saddle. Rankys walked to the Queen, head down, shoulders bobbing. Anora lifted her head, now covered in dirt and scrapes. As he stalks his way to the Queen, he picked her crown into his jaws. She spotted him and quickly orientated herself to a seated position. She reached for her sword belt but it lay behind the red lion having broken off in the fall. Now a foot in front of her, the red lion breathed softly. A beautiful dangerous creature, holding her crown in its teeth.

The red lion reverted back into human form and Rankys took the crown from his teeth. He walked to Anora and knelt down, still much higher than eye level, he peered downward.

“A queen should have her crown.” said Rankys, delicately placing it upon her head.

“She should also see the face of her killer, Rankys Ar Mortil O Wyvern.” finished Rankys. Before Anora could spit in his face or use her hands to block him, he sliced her head from her shoulders. The ice blade he had formed on his staff dripped with royal blood as he planted it into the earth. He grabbed the Queen’s severed head, looking into the lifeless as he adjusted the crown so that the pins dug into the tightly bound hair, ensuring it would not fall off. He then reverted to wyvern form, a more sturdy build, lifted the Queen’s corpse onto his back and carried her head in his mouth. Retracing his steps, he returned to the battlefield.

The scene by Rift Hold was a sight to behold. The fight was over and the victor was slitting the throats of the poor injured who lay amongst their friends, crying for a saviour. The bodies were mostly Fereldan, though there were still many Avvarian corpses. The throat-cutters were piling the bodies into a central pile as Rankys approached. They recognised him as the wyvern who had aided in the fight and were initially cautious before he walked around them pushed the doors of the hold open without them, concluding that the wyvern was definitely not wild. Within the hold, celebrations were being held. Strong drink flowed like water and the last of the reserve food was passed about for a feast. The people celebrating parted for the wyvern carrying a corpse to approach the five thanes sitting together. It was a special sight of separate holds who have an ancient history of friendships and rivalries gathered together. Inatan Half-Rider poured a tankard for Isbell Fine-Rock as Bhaltair Last-Scar lifted Ceana Blood-Eye into the air by the hips as she laughed hysterically. Meanwhile, Torcull Final-Grey watched over them as an older brother would to irresponsible siblings. However, they all stopped their shenanigans when the wyvern arrived. Rankys leaned to the side, dropping the body, the dropping the head. He then reverted to human form and lifted the head.

“The head of the lowlander Queen!” shouted Rankys. The hold erupted with ecstatic cheering. The thanes lept from their seats, understanding that the end of the Queen essentially meant the end of lowlander incursions. The night continued on to be even more lavish than one would think the Avvar could muster. Celebrations lasted into the next morning, their spirits never waning.

After the burning of the lowlander corpses, a heretic's funeral, a great hunt was initiated to replenish the hold’s supplies for winter. The holds returned to their own to rebuild and also prepare for the cold, as their reserves had been plundered, except for Stone Hold whose scenario was more akin to that of Rift Hold. The refugees whose homes were destroyed were distributed proportionally amongst the holds. Rankys, Leitis, Sam, and Tom wandered to hold from hold, lending a hand when necessary. They stayed the winter at Frost Hold, admiring its beauty and devotion to the gods. While most Avvar stayed within the remaining holds for the winter, those who refused the alliance chose the snow. Although most chose allegiance with their thane and who most likely believed this alliance to be short lived, many made an enemy of the lowlanders and their countrymen. Now freezing, they considered themselves to be following the true path. However, their numbers significantly dwindled while the game was scarce and enemies plentiful. On top of this, they clung to old grudges, as the reason they refused the alliance, so they were too fragmented to maintain a continuous effort against the alliance. The two big players continued to war after the great battle, although mostly in raids. Avoiding any pitched battle, the Fereldan army could not maintain a foothold in the hills. Nothing reached the sheer scale the day the lowlander queen was slain.

A year to the day from the Battle of Rift Hold, as it would be remembered in the history books, a group of cavalry rode to Rift Hold from the lowlands. It was a group of three knights, two staggered slightly behind the leader. When the first horse stepped on the stone bridge, the gate swung open. Inatan Half-Rider stood resolutely with Rankys, Leitis, Sam, and Tom at his sides. Inatan had refrained from attacking the lowland riders on advice from Rankys.

“Who are you and why have you travelled this far inland, lowlanders.” said Inatan, annoyed that he followed Rankys’ suggestion.

“I am King Alistair Theirin, this is Arl Teagan and Bann Perth. I wish to discuss our predicament.” said the man, removing his hood. He was recognised as the Alistair from when they met him at Kinloch Hold but he appeared younger, more alive.

“Allow him inside. He can cause us no harm.” said Inatan, speaking to his archers poised to fire.

Letters were sent to the other holds upon hearing of the King’s arrival. Within the week, the other thanes had gathered at Rift Hold. They all gathered together in the thane’s hall of Rift Hold. Rankys, Leitis, Sam, and Tom were permitted to listen in on the talks.

“I guess I should start.” said Alistair, smiling. The thanes agreed, leaning back.

“My cause for coming here is to apologise, in a way. My absence from my kingdom allowed my wife to, act irrationally. I have heard of her death, truly heartbreaking.” said Alistair, weakly feigning sadness. Teagan scoffed, knowing Alistair was performing theatre. The Avvar were not lost on what Alistair was putting on. They knew that the lowlanders feared that their failings in the Frostbacks would lead to a barbarian invasion and that their communion was formed reluctantly for both parties.

“I propose, we forget the new bad blood between us and return to our former occasional raids.” said Alistair casually, believing this discussion to ease many minds back home.

“We’ll need to talk in private.” said Torcull, after making ensuring eye contact with the other thanes. Alistair nodded his head and exited the hall along with his company.

“It has already returned to how it was, what does he want from us now?” asked Bhaltair, sternly.

“He wants assurance so the faint of heart lowlanders can sleep well, believing barbarian hordes won’t swoop down from the hills in the night.” said Isbell. She had grown to be the one to quench Bhaltair’s flame.

“It can’t go back to how it was, things have changed so much.” said Ceana, stating the obvious about the affairs of recent times. It had been the first time that all the holds were united. This was attributed to the bond of surviving the onslaught of a common enemy, as well as any who strayed from the alliance, fell victim to the lowlanders.

“Why make peace with them, we can take advantage of their frailty.” said Inatan.

“We must not be too aggressive. Just as we came together fighting Ferelden, they could forge an alliance with the Orlesians and be our downfall.” said Rankys, chiming in. Over the time the thanes had spent together, Rankys, Leitis, Sam, and Tom had accumulated great respect as the other thanes often called for consultation as they were a neutral party on hold business.

“We championed a lowlander force led by a desperate queen with no combat experience. Now with the new king, the lowlanders have a strong leader who commands loyalty and has spent years of his life-fighting. Under him and seeing us as an impending threat, the lowlanders could build a force to finish us off. However, to show ourself divided, we still seem easy picking. To ensure the safety of our people, we need to present us as a united people seeking peace. We must appear non-threatening but able to protect ourselves.” said Rankys. The others agreed and made final preparations before welcoming the king and his entourage back inside.

The lowlanders sat where they had previously.

“I speak for us all when I say we assure you that all can be returned to as it was.” said Inatan, taking the helm of the thanes as it was his hold and hall.

“A united voice? I thought you lot couldn’t agree on which gods were the best.” said Alistair, relaxed and smiling. Ceana gave him her signature death glare, straightening his back and making him uneasy.

“You have what you came for. Return to you lowlands.” said Bhaltair, rising from his seat. Bhaltair was a man of combat and the tone of peace had made him feel as though his blade had gone dull. Alistair responded by standing as well, inches between the two men. They matched one another’s height. All the others also stood. The King’s followers reached for their swords out of instinct, however, they were forced to leave them outside, a show of faith on both sides.

“Calm down.” said Rankys, standing next to the two eager fighters. The two looked up to him, his frame towering well over them.

“Tell your kind to beware the Frostback Mountains. They are safe as they keep their distance.” continued Rankys, now stepping between the two as they parted.

“That could have gone worse.” said Alistair, leaving the hall along with Teagan and Perth. The men gathered their equipment, mounted their steeds, and rode back to the lowlands. The thanes and allies gathered on the ramparts to watch them leave.

They returned to the hall and Inatan hosted a dinner for his guests. The evening consisted of drinking, tough foods, and tales sung by Rift Hold’s skald. As the evening came to a close, Inatan, at one of the heads of the table, called for a toast.

“We have been discussing how to reward you for your help in uniting us and repelling the lowlanders.” said Inatan, gesturing his cup to the four wanderers across the table.

“We decided on this.” said Ceana, handing a rolled paper to Leitis, who sat by her side. She unrolled the paper, revealing a map.

“Wow.” she said before showing the map to the others. The map was of the Frostback Mountains with each of the holds depicted on the map. However, between Frost Hold and Red Hold, there was an extra dot. The label attached to the marking had a blank space then ‘Hold’ after it.

“Are you gifting us a hold?” asked Tom, wide-eyed. Rankys took a closer look at the map along with Sam.

“You four have earned it. Its name is up to you.” said Isbell, smiling softly.

“You’ll have my stonemasons at your disposal, don't worry about the construction.” said Torcull. Frost Hold masons were legends amongst the Avvar.

“There is only four of us. Who will live in our hold?” asked Sam, confused by the whole deal.

“The victims who have lost their homes in other holds will finally have a permanent place to stay.” said Bhaltair.

“There are no words to express my gratitude.” said Rankys.

“We do have one more thing for you.” said Inatan, disappearing into the back of the hall for a moment. He returned with his hands behind his back.

“Crown-Slayer.” he said, rolling the golden crown of Queen Anora down the table. The crown spun out and landed in front of Rankys. He stared at the crown, speechless. Sam thumped him on the back.

“A legend-mark!” he said, laughing.

“And a shiny mantlepiece.” said Leitis, also smiling.

“Head sold separately.” said Tom. The room chuckled. Leitis, Sam, and Tom hugged each thane individually, receiving a small word of advice. Instead, Rankys brought all the thanes into one strong group hug.

“Stay the night, my hall is yours. We will all visit the new hold tomorrow.” said Inatan. The group brought out their beds and stayed the night. Rankys, Leitis, Sam, and Tom barely slept, whispering to one another in the night, ecstatic for what is to come.

The thanes along with the four future newcomers travelled together to the proposed hold’s location. Leaving the hold had not become an oddity for the thanes as diplomacy become more prevalent, they were taken away on business. As this became more frequent, people started to propose diplomats and embassies in one another’s holds so that the thanes could govern unabated by travel. The hold was as every hold started as, an indentation in a mountainside with defensible surroundings. The Avvar took special notice of gifts from Korth and revered them. The day was spent discussing potential structures, such as temples, housing, market stalls, etc. Stonemasons arrived from Frost Hold that evening and were instructed to start on housing and agriculture before the economic structures and lastly focus on honouring the gods. Construction on the housing began the next morning as the refugees found their way to the hold. Each refugee proclaimed their loyalty to the thanes, as a way to have the hold’s leadership a democratic seat. They had the choice to proclaim loyalty to any Avvar or even the gods but all swore fealty to the four saviours who stood before them.

As well as founding a new hold, the leaders of the Avvar established a neutral meeting place so national business could be discussed in a secure manner. This location was selected as the middle between Stone Hold and Frost Hold, the two most distant holds. The meeting place was carved out of the flat top of a mountain. Many spiralling stairs were made to reach its peak, where a table and nine seats were erected. Behind each seat stood tall a monument to that hold’s beast; the black bear of Rift Hold, the giant stag of Frost Hold, the raven of Vale Hold, the bronto of Stone Hold, the wolf and falcon, respectively representing the united tribes out of the Southron Hills and Coastlands, who fled their homelands after lowlander incursions, and lastly the red lion and wyvern as selected by the new thanes. The leaders said their farewells, knowing they were to see one another again and returned to their holds.

The peace in the Frostbacks lasted a long while, allowing the holds to prosper and grow. The hold shared by Rankys, Leitis, Sam, and Tom came to be known as a hold of diversity as having three separate thanes kept the different ideologies of the refugees present. However, the divide never became so deep as to cause abandonment among the people. Rankys became the hold’s augur, releasing his spirit of wisdom into the hold for the generations to come, as well as spreading his teachings of shapeshifting. Changing one’s form became a staple of the mages to emerge from the hold. It took some time for a Hold-Beast to be chosen, not wanting to copy another hold but also wanting an animal to be proud of. After seeing that the hold shared their hunting grounds with a fierce red lion, it became the Hold-Beast. Naming it Banrighphlàigh, Avvarian for ‘Queensbane’. The hold’s name was settled as Wyvern-Flame Hold, merging the names of the old holds of those who led the new hold.

Outside of the Frostbacks, Thedas watched curiously. This war would have been gladly forgotten as an unimportant skirmish with barbarians, if not for the death of Queen Anora. A united barbarian forces scared the lowlanders but the raids had decreased as a combination of avoiding the Mountains and the Avvar decreased interest in raiding. On occasion, nations would send missionaries of the Maker to civilise the barbarians, they were met with steel. The Chantry ruffled their feathers and threatened an Exalted March after a particularly aggressive group was found slain, but nothing came of it. Trade between Orlais and Ferelden turned easier as they pathways through the mountains became safer, even having the Orlesians provide free grain for the Avvar during their harshest winter after the war. No doubt they wanted some sort of political favour in return but the Avvar were just glad to stave off the tide of anarchy and maintain order. Holds would extract payment from those treading on their land. All in all, Thedas decided the leave the Avvar to themselves, concluding them to be no threat and to inevitably crumble into assimilation. Modern maps began adding a title beneath the ‘Frostback Mountains’ that read ‘Land of the Avvar’, leading those to view the Avvar as more and more of a nation rather than wild folk. Some made heraldry for them of Korth holding a mountain carved with axes and snow as a hawk perched on its peak, planting flags of these symbols to mark Avvar territory. Scholars from Orlais, Ferelden, and the Free Marches took interest in the Avvarian culture after word of their civility combined with the works of Bram Kenric spread. Tomes were written of legends that had only passed down from speech and sung in ceremony. New Avvar villages started appearing as their numbers began expanding, inching closer and closer to the lowlanders. After a skirmish with fear driven, torch-wielding farm hands, the King of Ferelden met once again with the united thanes. The discussion ended with loose borders being formed and tensions defused. The acknowledgement of borders led to an even more heightened sense of nationalism among the Avvar.

It was unknown how long this peace and unity will last but as long as it did through great effort from all the thanes, the Avvar people grew and prospered.

 


End file.
